Desert Destination: Wheeler and Jeff Davis Peaks

Towering over the Great Basin Desert is Wheeler Peak at 13,063 feet, the peak slightly right of center in the above photo. The trailhead begins at about 10,000 feet, with a well-marked trail weaving through groves of aspen, sub-alpine meadows, patches of Engelmann spruce and limber pine, erratic groupings of stunted trees called krummholtz, and finally large amounts of big boulders called talus. The 3,000 foot hike up the mountain is not easy, but someone in relatively good shape can make it in half a day. I've climbed Wheeler Peak several times, but I've never climbed its sister peak, Jeff Davis, on the left side of the above photo. Jeff Davis has no trail to it, is about 12,770 feet high, and it's been on my to do list for a few years. So today's destination involves these two peaks in one massive hike.

So the plan was to climb Wheeler Peak, and then go across the ridge to Jeff Davis. Sounds simple, right? We started up Wheeler at a nice steady pace. The spectacular views of the valleys on either side, other mountain ranges, and flowers like this Parry's primrose (Primula parryi) kept our minds off the steadily decreasing oxygen.

About half way up the trail becomes a little harder to find as it enters a talus field. The trail ascends the steep ridge right up to the top of the peak. Some rain moved in, and because we had gotten a late start, we were passed by people who had already summited and now were on their way back down with big smiles on their faces.

It was amazing how many tiny wildflowers were nestled among the rocks. This is an alpine paintbrush (Castilleja nana). Close to most of the flowers were an array of pollinators, including flies, bees, and butterflies. We also saw some birds like rosy-finches and rock wrens.

After about three hours we made it to the top and were rewarded with this view looking south. The South Snake Range has many peaks over 11,000 feet. The snow covered area in the foreground is part of a glacial cirque, with a rock glacier at the bottom of it. A rock glacier is basically a piece of ice that has a layer of crumbled rock over it that acts as an insulating blanket, protecting the ice from warm temperatures and solar radiation.

A really spectacular view of a rock glacier came after we had a snack and started over on the ridge to Jeff Davis. This rock glacier is quite long and near the end of it a grove of bristlecone pines can be found. If you click on the photo to enlarge it, you may be able to see a couple pools of turquoise water about halfway down the rock glacier. I've never seen them before, and am very curious about why they are there and how they formed.

Here's a photo of the cliff side face of Wheeler Peak. The rock is very loose Prospect Mountain Quartzite, a metamorphic rock. Incredibly, some people have climbed this face, despite the huge amount of crumbly rock. There's a good reason that a rock glacier exists below--plenty of rock is added by the mountain each year.

Here's a view of one of my hiking partners working her way up Jeff Davis, with Wheeler Peak in the background. The ridge between the two was longer than I had expected, and I started getting a bad headache. That's a classic sign of elevation sickness (or as one person put it, altitude poisoning). I had never really had elevation sickness before, and I wasn't liking it. The best thing to do is go down, but one side was a cliff face; behind us was Wheeler Peak, even higher; and to the other side was a steep talus slope that led to a long hike out. So we kept heading ahead to Jeff Davis Peak.

I wasn't enjoying the view that much because I felt icky, but I managed to snap a couple photos, and I'm glad I did, because the scenery was spectacular and I can enjoy it now. Clouds and a sporadic light rain kept the temperatures wonderful, and we lucked out and didn't have much wind. When we got to the top of Jeff Davis I laid down and took a quick nap and that made me feel a little better and ready to start down.

This was the way down, over 2,000 foot descent on talus. That green patch at the bottom is trees, but the trees are so far away you can't even make out individual ones. I got dizzy looking at the whole slope, so I just focused on where to put my feet. And foot by foot, we made our way down.

As the oxygen thickened I felt better and even took time to stop and admire this blue columbine (Aquilegia scopulorum), with some daisies (Erigeron species) in the background. At one point on the talus we could hear water moving underneath, but we couldn't see any. 

After about 10 hours of hiking we finally made it back to the vehicle. We all decided that we never again wanted to descend Jeff Davis down the steep talus slope, it was too steep and unsteady. But overall it was a beautiful hike, and a good warmup to another 10 hour hike a couple days later that included four mountain peaks. I'll save that story for another day!

Conquering the Hammock

It's Sunday, the perfect day to lay around and have a day of rest. We got a hammock this year, or rather I got a hammock for my husband for Father's Day. After he fell out of it, he's been a bit suspicious of it. How hard can it be to get into a hammock? Here I let one of Desert Boy's cousins, Tractor Buddy, give it a try.First attempt: Oops, it didn't go so well, Tractor Buddy is under the hammock.

Second attempt: Turn it sideways and approach cautiously.

Third attempt: Maybe putting his back on it first will work.

Fourth attempt: Jump on and hope for the best.

Fifth attempt: Crawl onto the hammock, trying to get the weight into the middle as soon as possible.

Yes, it worked! 

And now the other cousins and Desert Boy can get on too. Maybe my sweet husband will reconsider getting on the hammock now. After all, if the kids can do it, surely he can!

County Fair

Back in the county where I grew up, it's fair week. My friends have been telling me about how their kids have been doing with their animals and 4-H projects, and my parents have told me about what's there this year. 

I have fond memories of the fair, of eating junkfood, walking around aimlessly, visiting the animal barns and being jealous of the kids who got to stay in them with their animals, of blueberry pie eating and watermelon seed spitting contests. I remember going to see how my 4-H projects did, how my dad's open-class plants did, how my mom's open-class bread did. At the far end of the fairgrounds was the horse area, and the horses had a special mystique because they were so far away from the other areas. 

We'll be having the fair here in August, but it isn't a week, it's just a weekend, and it's about 20 times smaller than the fair I went to growing up. Part of the reason is the size. The county I live in now covers almost 8,900 square miles, but has just 9,500 inhabitants. The county I grew up in, located in the Midwest, covers about 560 square miles, but has over 30,000 inhabitants. 

Nevertheless, I enjoy our county fair out here, but it's still not quite the same as walking through the county fair and seeing it through the eyes of a child. Or remembering an aunt throwing up after going on the tilt-a-whirl. Or picking (and eating) so many blueberries before heading to the fair that our teeth and tongues were blue for days. Or getting so excited about getting my first ribbon. 

What are your favorite memories of your county fair?

Pony Express Reride

My nephew, the Pony Express Rider, along with his dad, grandpa, and uncle, went to help reride the Pony Express route in June. They had a great time, and I just have to share these photos with you, because they help capture the romantic feelings associated with that brief period of history when young'uns helped keep the country united by carrying the postal mail through rain and snow, hot and cold, day and night. (Click the link above for a bit more info about the 2,000 mile ride from Missouri to California that took place during 1860-61).This is the mochila, the mail sack. The compartments can be padlocked. During the reride they carried official US mail.
Here's Cousin Pony Express Rider helping another rider get ready. Lots of people turned out to help with the reride, held every June. Cousin totally looks like a real Pony Express Rider, with his slight build, young age, and fearless expression.
The mail is off! The horses had to slow down while going over mountain passes...
...but on the flats they galloped! Look at the little dust cloud that Cousin Pony Express Rider and Jewel are stirring up. Can you imagine trying to gallop through this terrain during the middle of the night or during a snowstorm? Those young'uns were tough! 

Driving Tractors Part II

My son, Desert Boy,  loves to drive tractors, which is quite obvious in Driving Tractors Part I.

He was in need of a driving fix yesterday, so we visited the lower yard and looked around for some tractors for him to drive. We found a few and it was a good morning.

We started out on a Massey Ferguson 275. The red color attracted him immediately. Plus it was the closest one to where we parked. It doesn't have much of a seat left to it, but that doesn't matter much to a one-year old.

This tractor at first glance looks the same, but it's actually a 1964 Massey Ferguson 150. Cousin Pony Express Rider (update tomorrow!) had to come over and give Desert Boy a couple pointers.

Right next to it was an Allis-Chambers 7550. Now we're getting big! Mom gets a workout climbing up all these tractors to let Desert Boy drive.
The little smile makes it all worth it. Note Desert Boy's crossed legs, one of his favorite habits. I wish I had gotten some of his "vroom, vroom" noises. He made a lot of them.

Now he's done smiling at mom and ready to start driving, beginning by shifting.

Okay, three red tractors down, and a  fall in the dirt. Where to next? 

He looks a little wide-eyed behind the wheel of this tractor.
It's a John Deere 4755, pulling some big long red thing. My husband, my technical advisor, isn't around to tell me what the doohickey thing is. Oh wait, he's back and says it's a rotary windrower. 

I said, "What does that mean?"

He said, "Makes windrows."

"Well, what are windrows?"

"Rows of cut hay that can dry and later be picked up."

(See, we have exciting conversations in our house.)

Oh good golly, Desert Boy is now up in a high cab and reaching for the keys. We'll be in big trouble when he actually can start one of these machines.

Especially if it's something as big as this John Deere 6910, which is a forage harvester. The yellow part on the front picks up the windrow and chops it into little bits and blows it into a truck.

Okay, we're almost done, but there's time to play in this huge bucket. Henry doesn't want to be left out (he didn't like Desert Boy driving alone). You can just imagine the size of the machine needed to lift a five cubic yard bucket and its load.

Here it is, the biggest loader on the ranch. Desert Boy can only hope to drive this one day.